


Nitro Kiss

by perch



Category: Redline
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perch/pseuds/perch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Explicit porn without plot AU exploring Machinehead's mastery of steamlight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nitro Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twopunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twopunch/gifts).



"That’s right girl, you want new code to absorb,” Volton crooned as the tentacles reached towards him, piercing him down to the core, the past, the figurative base of his existence, and rooted through him. Absorbing him and being absorbed in return by his primal need to evolve. Roboworld’s secrets were in danger of cracking open like a rotten egg in front of the entire galaxy all thanks to the damn Redline race and specifically the Princess of Supergrass’ involvement in setting up a track. If Colonel Volton was going to have to clean up all the messes leftover from the damage this caused, namely it getting out to the universe that Roboworld was, in point of fact, still harboring illegal giant bioweapons then it was his duty, nay even his destiny, to merge with another of their secretly developed bioweapons and put a stop to it.

The newly reborn ultra-biological warfare unit still known as Colonel Volton rose from the wreckage of the building; his new body pulsing blue and red and pink as it slithered, slug like and grotesque, towards Funky Boy. Deep inside the mouth a second appeared, Volton’s tombstone like teeth flaring from between his lips as he smiled. Now he was the best, most powerful machine on the planet. Better than Funky Boy.

Better than Machinehead racing down a causeway, wasting his own enhanced body on that stupid, futile race.

In a corner of Volton’s combined memories he couldn’t judge Little Deyzuna too harshly for his desire to chase Trava. For his general incompetence, lack of foresight, recklessness and general stupidity yes, but not for wanting to chase the one that he felt had abandoned him to a cruel and pitiless galaxy. While ninety-nine percent of Volton surged towards his opponent the remaining one percent reminisced. Processing memories forcefully regurgitated by the union with his new bioweapon companion, cracked open like so many bones to have the marrow of long forgotten scenes sucked out and mauled by this new combined entity.

Volton ripped through the air, his huge slug like body crashing into Funky boy. Volton’s human lips sneered, his teeth grinding together in the upper palate of the monster’s mouth. He shot a blast at funky boy’s wiggling sludge tearing deeply into the regenerating flesh.

'Machinehead will be boasting about this on the networks later, that arrogant, magnificent bastard,’ a tiny corner of Volton’s subconscious cried out and the newly organic beast he’d combined with pounced on the idea, sifting greedily through the data that thought stirred.

 

25 years earlier:

“I’m going to race,” Machinehead lay next to Volton, their sweat cooling into drops that ran off their wet torsos and onto the surrounding grass. “I’m gonna make it to Redline.”

“How in the world do you plan on doing that?” Volton asked sleepily, his hair pooling across Machinehead’s chest as he nestled into the crook of his arm. “You know the President won’t allow us to take time off from the military with the rebellion getting out of hand.”

Machinehead reached into their discarded clothing, rooting around in his pants until he drew out a small silver capsule and showed it to his companion, his other arm squeezing Volton closer to his side.

“Is that-” Volton sputtered, his head rising, all traces of sleep gone.

“Steamlight,” the word punctured the air dropping heavily between them.

“That’s crazy, your body couldn’t take-” Volton reached up for it, but Machinehead’s fingers curled around the orb shielding it.

“I have to master it,” Machinehead rolled over trapping Volton under his bigger body. “We can master it.”

“Unless that has military applications…,” Volton protested, his legs wrapping around the other's waist as he hitched his hips upward.

“What if the President is wrong?” Machinehead whispered, holding the capsule between them. “Isn’t peace better than all this war?”

“That’s treasonous talk,” Volton gasped as Machinehead’s large cock stiffened against his ass cheeks. “You don’t actually mean that!”

Machinehead smiled down at him, his face solemn, then placed the steamlight between his teeth and bent forward pushing the other end between Volton’s lips. Volton’s hips pressed up, hitching his ass higher as Machinehead guided his cock to the still lubricated hole and pressed gently against the opening, thrusting as he broke the capsule sharply with his teeth. Silver nitro ignited between them as they clawed at each other, hips thrusting frantically, their mouths gnashing at each others shoulders as the pure energy raced through their veins.

They struggled against the smallest spaces between as they were stretched by the intense velocity of the unfiltered nitro coursing through their veins hurtling them into the earth. Machinehead rolled them over and pushed Volton up and back, letting the other man control the action. Volton gasped again, his finger nails scoring against the cybernetic flesh beneath him as he thrust his ass down, the nitro pulling him apart while he hung on, pounding onto Machinehead’s cock while his own stiffened, drops of pre-come arcing both in slow motion and faster than a bullet from the head.

Incomprehensible noises sputtered from between their mouths as they continued. The energy flaring between them and fading as Machinehead reached forward and slowly, gently, delicately grabbed Volton’s shaft, thrusting his fingers along the length and pulling at it in stiff jerky motions, his own hips fighting against the ass cheeks slapping into them.

“Mouth,” Volton commanded, grabbing Machinehead and pulling him forward as he bent down, his ass continuing to ride him, his own cock trapped in Machinehead's vice like grasp and his orgasm bubbling upward. His mouth and tongue attacked the other man’s, dueling him back into his mouth and capturing the corners and crannies as they shuddered to climax, their voices smothered in the dying silver light.

Afterward, Machinehead lifted Volton from his cock, slipping out as gently as he could and cradled the man against his chest.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “Together we can master this and win.”

“Impossible,” Volton responded, his fingers running along the grooves he’d left behind on the other man’s chest.

Six months later Machinehead was gone, defecting from the army.

 

Four-and-a-half years later he held up the first Redline trophy of his career, smiling and laughing as he gazed around the crowd.

Volton was promoted to Captain shortly after Machinehead’s second win, Colonel with his third and had developed his reputation as most feared military commander in the nebula by his fourth. Fast forward, and Volton’s new body slams into Funky Boy harder, his energy blasts tearing through the technoflesh and incinerating him down to the last molecule. Volton’s slug like body surges harder, smothering the other creature under its bulk as it tears into its flesh and energy, his voice barking orders as he gives everything to Roboworld and his own glory.

Later Volton stares out into the skyline, still squashing any remaining pieces of Funky Boy in his path, a monitor flickering to his right showing the race results.

‘So you finally lost, you crusty old bastard,’ Volton laughs, while above him the hyper-disintegrator cannon moves into place.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my partner for the beta.


End file.
